Volume Two: The Mortal Realm, Chapter 116: Into the Fire

"Old man, what is happening?"

The moment the silver circle shattered, the haughty and arrogant voice that had just spoken was suddenly filled with shock and terror, before being swallowed entirely.

As the silver circle burst, it transformed into a terrifying, brilliant storm that tore through and pulverized everything in its vicinity. The weakest among them, the cultivators of the Wheel Sea Realm, were instantly vaporized within the scorching white light. Even the cultivators of the Origin Passing Realm were quickly swept away by the horrific storm, their fates unknown.

The only one capable of resisting this terrifying gale was Si Tian, a cultivator of the Spirit Transformation Realm, yet even he was left with blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. With his eyes glowing in brilliant light, he peered through the scorching white storm in search of that aged figure, lunging forward with a fury so intense it could not be quenched.

They had spent all this time trying to break the circle, never realizing that its most terrifying aspect was not the restriction it imposed, but the moment it was shattered. Every attack they had launched had ultimately become the weapon that killed them.

The old beggar fell powerlessly, looking toward the purple-clad Si Tian, who was charging at him in a frantic, maddened rage through the storm. He opened his mouth and laughed silently.

The Circle Tribulation Fist—life and tribulation, it is a circle; the strength of the enemy is my own strength. He had endured for so long, absorbing countless attacks, just to make this final firework all the more radiant and spectacular. Even if this brilliant display would eventually consume him as well.

...

The world was a sea of searing white.

Liu Xi bit her lip, her eyes bloodshot, as she scrambled forward toward the tide of the exploding silver circle, chasing the direction where that aged figure had fallen. But everything was shattering and receding; she felt as though she were moving forward, yet in reality, the surging tide of spiritual power was pushing her backward, driving her further and further from him.

Above that aged figure, a trail of soul-snatching purple light was closing in. Bruised, battered, and utterly exhausted, she continued to endure the storm tearing at her body, reaching out with all her might toward that distant figure, repeating the same word over and over again.

"Father."

...

"Boom."

Before the white fireworks blooming from the silver circle in the sky could fade, a series of thunderous roars erupted from deep within the earth. The ground trembled violently and split open, as scorching magma surged upward, flowing like a tide and devouring the entire landscape. The earth was blanketed in black flames.

Fire.

Xu Zixian had loved fire since he was a child. He believed that fire was the most essential element of mortal human civilization. Immortals, demons, spirits, and Buddhas all relied on spiritual energy for cultivation. Mortals, however, were unable to utilize this energy because they could not sense it or lacked the spiritual apertures to commune with it. This was the origin of the divide between the immortal and the mortal.

Yet, without spiritual energy, mortals were not entirely defenseless. There was the power of fire; the civilization of fire had accompanied humanity through countless thorns. Mortals used fire to drive away darkness and cold, to cook their food, to forge their weapons; they had conquered beasts with fire and built their civilization upon it. Fire had granted humanity so much power.

So, how could a mortal defeat an immortal? Could mortals use the power of fire to overcome them? Could a civilization of fire stand against a civilization of spiritual energy?

"Boom."

Nearby, a mountain that stood like a massive black pillar spewed thick black smoke, followed by an eruption of viscous, dark red lava. Burning rocks were ejected from the crater, turning into a shower of fire meteors that slammed into the glowing red earth.

From the fissures in the ground, the lava welled up ever higher. A sealed black mechanical vessel emerged from the earth along with the molten flow. The cabin popped open, revealing Xu Zixian’s face. He looked toward Liu Xi not far away and shouted, "A-Xi, come here quickly!"

The strange black vessel then began to navigate across the molten lava, drawing closer to her. Seeing that Xu Zixian was also alive, a flicker of joy surged in Liu Xi's eyes. Estimating the distance, she carried A-Ru on her back, leaped across the high-temperature flames and lava, and scrambled into the vessel.

"Quick, save my father! There is still a Si Tian over there," Liu Xi urged anxiously.

"Understood," Xu Zixian replied with a grim expression, beginning to turn the vessel. But just as they adjusted their course, the old beggar’s heroic, tragic laughter rang out above the roar of the volcanic eruption.

They looked back.

The sky had transformed into an abstract painting of only red and black, and the lava on the ground was paved with the brightest red and the deepest black. In that world of extreme light and shadow, the old beggar, now withered like dead wood, suddenly turned to face the purple-clad figure who brought with him a vast, overwhelming light. Behind the beggar rose an even more immense torrent of magma.

"Boom."

The monstrous lava surged upward, pillars of fire erupted into the sky, and a tornado composed of magma materialized between the black and red landscape. The old beggar laughed, opening his arms as he lunged toward the light that was now so terrified it sought to retreat.

"Heaven sends down its killing intent, Earth sends down its killing intent; this is the tribulation of Heaven and Earth. If the tribulation of man could not kill you, can the tribulation of Earth?"

The surging magma roared toward the sky. The old beggar threw himself at the purple-clad figure, layer upon layer of rotating lava circles surging toward them, swallowing everything in their path. Then, the erupting magma came crashing down.

The sky was crimson, but both the purple-clad figure and the aged man had vanished. The volcano continued to rumble and erupt, the ground kept splitting, and the world was filled with chaos. Yet Liu Xi, staring blankly at the crimson void in the sky, froze. In her world, all sound and color had vanished, leaving only silence and desolation.

She closed her eyes, breathing as hard as she could, but still broke into choked sobs, hot tears streaming down her face.

Father.

Had that man, whose back was hunched yet remained so incredibly tall, really left just like that? Why had it all happened so fast?

Actually, it wasn't fast. No, hadn't she known all along? Hadn't she been prepared? On that snowy night not long ago, when he was severely wounded and ignored his own fading life force—already depleted from decades of life-and-death battles—to forcibly break through his cultivation realm, she had known his time in the mortal world was short. When he had burned his remaining life essence to hold off the immortals with the Circle Tribulation Fist, she had known in her heart that this would be his final battle.

But why, why did it still feel like it happened too fast? Why was she still so caught off guard?

Xu Zixian’s face was filled with undisguised sorrow. He reached out and held Liu Xi’s shoulders tightly, as if to transmit his own strength to her—she who was always strong, but had suddenly lost all power and become just an ordinary girl.

"Wait, what is that?" Xu Zixian suddenly saw something and stared at the lava ahead, speaking in astonishment.

Liu Xi opened her eyes, her pupils instantly filling with joy. A familiar figure rose from the churning magma; it was the old beggar.

"Father!" Liu Xi cried out in uncontrollable joy, ready to rush toward the lava. Her mind was filled only with the happiness that he was still alive. But Xu Zixian, more composed, held her back, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "A-Xi, wait. Something is wrong."

Xu Zixian gazed intently at the familiar figure lying horizontally as it floated up from the terrifying magma. As one of the last great martial artists of the world who had surpassed the Twelve-Story Building, the old beggar’s body was incredibly resilient, and it was normal for it not to be incinerated in the lava for a short time. But he was not rising on his own; he was being held up by something, like a drowning man being lifted from the depths.

What was in the lava? Xu Zixian stared fixedly at the spot, his eyes full of vigilance.

"Splash."

A crimson figure emerged from the lava along with the old beggar’s body, lifting a face covered in a dark red mask. The face was majestic and terrifying, like an Asura from hell. The body connected to that face was not flesh and blood, but something like dark red, molten lava.

The crimson figure stood straight in the sea of fire. He was tall, and wherever he stood, all the lava and flames swirled around him obediently, as if bowing at the feet of an emperor. The terrifying monster carried the old beggar on his back; he even had a black sword box strapped to him. Then, the crimson figure began to walk rapidly toward Liu Xi and Xu Zixian.

The existence of this creature was completely beyond the comprehension of Liu Xi and Xu Zixian. They stood stunned for a moment, watching as the crimson figure carried the old beggar toward them. The figure’s back was hunched, his head lowered, and tiny flames like tears fell from his eyes.

"Hey, Senior, don't die."

"I haven't agreed to be your disciple yet. If you die now, you won't have one."

"Hey, Senior, I've discovered how to use the Human Emperor's Sword. You must want to know, right?"

Amidst the rumbling of the volcano behind them, the crimson monster’s voice choked with emotion. He walked with his head bowed, murmuring the same things over and over. But the life force in the aged, broken body on his back was fading irreversibly.

A voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz rasped in Ye Mingke’s ear.

"Little monster, you once asked me if I could be carefree after living a life burdened by debts and guilt. Ten years of guilt... it was only because I could not see clearly where my own heart leaned. All my life, the path my heart leaned toward was the path beneath my feet."

"Little monster, don't be sad. I wasn't good enough to be your master anyway. This is fine."

The voice grew weaker, eventually becoming almost inaudible.

"I am fine, and you are fine, too. The only regret is that you... you are not a mortal. But that is also fine. Just go and do what you want to do."

The crimson monster suddenly stopped in his tracks, his voice hoarse as he murmured, "You are already my master."